Desensitization Therapy
by domina tempore
Summary: When Kirsten learns about a problem Camille has sometimes, she tries to help. Camille is not amused. (Tag to S01E08)


**Stitchers:** _Desensitization Therapy_

 _Disclaimer: Stitchers and all of its characters etc. belong to their respective owners, I'm just borrowing. No copyright infringement intended!_

 _Author's Note: This is entirely the fault of Vickie and Jess, and one really late night when I drifted off telling myself this story. I don't know how I let them talk me into these fandoms that I'll obviously end up writing fic for..._

o

"Camille, I have a surprise for you."

"Oh, is it like your last surprise? Because those boots were fabulous!" Camille bounced into the room. Normally, words like those coming from Kirsten's mouth were not particularly encouraging, but the team hadn't died from a violent illness in the lab last week, and Camille was trying to have a more positive outlook on life. They were alive! The sun was shining, life was good, and Kirsten…

"Surprise!"

Camille was frozen, eyes wide, staring at the clear plastic box Kirsten was holding out to her. "That's a rat."

"Very good; you know your basic vertebrates," Kirsten nodded briskly, still offering up her sick surprise up like it was something good. A fuzzy gray and white rodent was crawling around, sniffling in the corner. It stood up on its back paws and squeaked through the plastic at Camille.

"It's a rat."

"Yes." Kirsten cocked her head and frowned a little, finally realizing that her gift was not as well-received as she'd probably been expecting. "His name is Ollie. What's wrong?"

"Why is it in our house?" Technically, it was Kirsten's house now. Camille needed to find a new roommate. A new house. A new job. Why had she survived the deadly disease again if she was just going to die of terror today?

"Oh, that's all. I was worried that there was something wrong." Kirsten finally gave up on trying to offer Camille the box of death and set it down on the dining room table. Which Camille was never eating off of again. "It's for your desensitization therapy."

"What?" Camille may have squawked the question. Under the circumstances, she figured it was a reasonable response. "When did I ask for desensitization therapy? I hate rodents! Why would I ever ask you to bring one into this house as some kind of sick pet?"

Kirsten raised an eyebrow. "Considering your significant lack of personal boundaries, you should be thankful that this is the only thing I've brought into the house so far." She looked over at Camille critically. "Ollie is going to live in the house with us for a while. You're going to get used to the fact that he's around. You're going to help me feed him. And once you're used to that, you're going to be able to pick him up."

Why? Of all the crazy roommates in the world, why did Camille have to have the one that brought rats home? Why not something easier to deal with, like drugs or hookers? The occasional axe murderer would be a nice change of pace.

"Kirsten, you have to get rid of it. I'll never sleep, like, ever again. Can't you just bring it back where you found it or something?"

Another frowny, raised-eyebrow face. "Maggie told me I can't put it back in the vents."

Maggie? Oh, Camille was going to have a very long, very interesting talk with her boss in the near future. Right after she finished with Kirsten. Not to mention, in the vents? That made this probably the same rat that had crawled on her! "You shouldn't have taken it out in the first place! Didn't it ever occur to you to ask me first?"

"You'll thank me later." Kirsten patted her shoulder on the way past - that hand had touched the rat cage, ew! - and headed for the bathroom.

"I will bet you ten million dollars that that will never happen!"

"Gambling is a bad habit!"

Camille glared at the bathroom door as Kirsten shut it firmly behind her and threw another hateful look at the rat for good measure. Ugh. Forget all that mental positivity bullcrap; her life officially sucked.

"I need to find better friends."

 _fin._

 _Note: Done! Unless something else comes up and I feel compelled to write more about the rat currently residing on Camille's dining room table. Poor Camille._


End file.
